


The Hardest Thing

by Jaedyxe



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F, TW: Blood, Torture, extreme violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23549464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaedyxe/pseuds/Jaedyxe
Summary: Beltane has come and gone. Scylla and Raelle have moved past their issues and Scylla begins to open up to Raelle about her past more.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 53
Kudos: 351





	1. Forget-Me-Not

**Author's Note:**

> Alright folks. I wanted to give us a bit of angsty fluff before we head into the new episode tonight. This chapter has been graciously beta’d by Nikki @OnlyNickatNite. Honestly, her recommendations really helped round out the work. There will be two more parts after. The minor talk of suicide refers to the conversation between the two in the first episode. Hope you all enjoy and remember to use #Motherland as much as possible!  
> Note: 4/16 Updated some of the paragraphs I had problems with and fixed the tense to be in line with rest of fic.

Scylla stares into the lake from her seat at its shore. Her hands work slowly and carefully at her task, pulling absently at the pile of forget-me-nots as more material was needed. There was no moonlight to guide her, but she didn’t need it. She had completed this braid pattern more times than she wished to count. There is a cool mist in the air and a faint breeze. Most people would have a jacket on, but she was used to the cold and ignores the faint chill seeping into her black cargo pants.

Beside her sits the first of the pair, completed and ready. The forget-me-nots were carefully braided into the form of a pentagram. Small sprigs of rosemary were woven into the pattern intermittently and a daisy bud sits cradled in one of the triangles. 

Thoughts race through her mind. If she’d been faster, stronger, smarter...maybe they wouldn’t have...

The brunette releases a deep breath as she finishes weaving the second pentagram and reaches for another daisy bud. Moving to her knees she places first one and then the second braided pentagrams onto the gently lapping water. She gives them a gentle nudge and then she falls back into a sitting position and watches them slowly drift away. 

Unbidden the memory of what happened to her parents begins to rise up and sounds akin to a freight train slam through her ears.

_ “Mom!! Dad no!” _

_ “Scylla-go! Run, now!” _

_ “I’m not leaving you!” _

_ “Scylla, do as he says and GO! Don’t let them take you!” _

“Scyl, are you ok ba- **ack** !” 

Scylla startles as arms came around her waist from behind, not registering the voice or who it belonged to. On instinct she darts up and brings one of the offending arms with her. She grasps the forearm with her left hand and braces her right against a familiar bicep. Twisting quickly she shifts her weight, using her momentum to quickly throw the person behind her over her shoulder and to the ground. She moves her right hand to their throat and begins to squeeze, but stops as their voice finally registers in her mind.

“Scylla, baby stop it’s me. It’s Raelle!” The blonde lays on the ground with her arms braced, trying to remain as still as possible. Terrified turquoise eyes meet concerned ice blue as Scylla finally comes back to herself.

“Shit, Rae, I’m so sorry.” Scylla moves her hand from her girlfriend’s throat and instead goes to grasp her hands and gently pull Raelle into a sitting position, the blonde groaning as she comes up. 

Raelle pulls one of her arms away and begins to massage her lower back.

“I’m just going to say this, if you and Abigail ever get into a fight-I’m putting my money on you.” 

Raelle chuckles as she draws her arms away from massaging her back and reaches forward to cradle Scylla’s face, thumbs soothingly running over her flushed cheeks.

“Raelle I am so sor-!”

“Shhh Scyl, it’s ok. I thought you would have heard me clompin’ around like a newborn deer. I should have tried to make sure I had your attention before just grabbin’ you.”

Scylla allows a smile to overcome her face and reaches her hands up to cradle Raelle’s face, mirroring her girlfriends grasp on her own as if they are completing a circuit. They both slowly move forward until their noses are just barely grazing one another. Then their lips meet and gently caress each other. Scylla allows their kiss to continue and feels the adrenaline drain out of her. She basks in the feelings of love and acceptance she feels in Raelle’s lips. 

Pulling away Scylla’s emotions swell through her. Normally she kept them locked up in the darkest corner of herself. But on this day, between the emotion rolling through her dealing with the memories and now what she had to deal with about how she lov—

“Hey, I promise it’s ok,” Raelle slowly runs her thumb over her girlfriends cheek, catching the tear that she doesn’t think Scylla even knows she released, “Come on, sit down. You can make it up to me later.” She gently grasps the hand cradling her face and moves to sit on the ground. Pulling Scylla with her, she turns her girlfriend so that they sit back to front and secures her arms around Scylla’s waist. 

They sit there, Raelle trying to imbue their embrace with as much of her feelings and strength as she could. Scylla readily absorbs as much of the warmth and comfort from her girlfriend as she can. As time passes, the braided pentagrams continue to drift and the girls’ breaths begin to sync with one another. They both rest there, just taking comfort in each other. 

Scylla moves to cross her arms so they lay over Raelle’s, tightening them until Raelle understands and returns the embrace as much as she can. The blonde moves her head forward so that her chin rests on her girlfriend's shoulder. Turning her head to the right, she nuzzles silky brunette hair out of the way as she gently kisses the skin just below Scylla’s left ear. As expected, there is a change in her girlfriends breathing almost immediately.

“How much do you know about Necros?”  _ Well that wasn’t the question she expected. _

Raelle moves her attention to the water again before answering.

“About as much as you’ve told me and what Anacostia told us briefly in training. You can do the recon thing, pull energy from it, that sort of thing. Mama didn’t really talk much about the other specialties, just wanted to make sure I could take care of myself and others with fixing. I mean she wasn’t even really supposed to do that, but most get to grow up learning a bit of magic.” 

Scylla inhales deeply.

“In most military units, wherever there is a fixer, there’s a necro. Like you said, we can pull the energy from the dead, even pass it onto others to use it for ourselves. Get intel, see through them...but there’s another side of it. When a person dies, there’s about six minutes after a person has died where you have the smallest chance...of saving them. Sometimes it’s longer or shorter, depending on the damage to the body...” Scylla pauses as she moves to lace one of her hands with Raelle’s. “So necros are able to grab onto that power and either hold it for a very short period of time or push it along. But that comes at a price so the Army doesn’t do it often except in extreme circumstances. Do you know though what the hardest thing about being a necro is though?”

Raelle said nothing, waiting to see where this was going.

“Three years ago today, I was only sixteen—and I wish my mother had a chance to teach me this song but she didn’t—and never would.”

Raelle closes her eyes before pressing her nose into the crook of Scylla's neck, trying to give her as much comfort as she could.

“We were at a small community north of Maine, only a few cabins. Just enough for us and a couple other families. We had to always keep moving and keep our numbers small. I’ve never figured out how Alders’ bloodhounds found us, but they came at night, when everyone except a watchman was sleeping. The watchman had barely been able to raise an alert before a storm rose and drowned him out. Then suddenly there was a noise, almost like a freight train.”

“The tornadoes...” Raelle whispers, realization dawning.

Scylla solemnly nods her head, “My parents rushed me up and out, our bags in our arms. As we came out of the door, there were maybe three or four of them. Two of the other cabins were already completely destroyed. When the bloodhounds came, they were there to collect any children that weren’t of conscription age and destroy everything else. My parents looked at the carnage and then each other...I could tell they didn’t think we were going to make it out this time. I barely registered them getting a determined look in their eyes before they yelled at me to go, that they would hold them off...”

The brunette pauses and slowly leans her head towards Raelle’s, needing the comfort being near to her girlfriend always brings. 

“Scylla, you don’t have to tell me the rest...”

Scylla shakes her head, “No, you deserve to know. After Beltane, after what happened with Porter, we promised no more lies-no more secrets. I am yours and I want to share this with you.” The brunette twists slightly so that she was angled towards Raelle. In sync they both move toward one another. 

Raelle did not think she would ever tire of this connection. Even when she had been hurt and confused from the situation with Porter, afraid of the memories that had latched onto her after she’d tried and failed to save his life. The pain that she had felt when she had seen Scylla kiss Porter in her mind...

It had taken a lot of talking for them to work through it. While they were still working through it, Raelle couldn’t abandon her sexy weird necro.

Scylla moves in and firmly takes possession of Raelle’s lips, moving them against hers more quickly then she had all night. 

Raelle gives back as good as she gets, running her hands up Scylla's back and moving them towards her hair. She runs her nails gently over Scylla's scalp and her girlfriend pulls back with a light groan. A shot of arousal quickly went south at the sound. They hadn’t made love since before the crisis with Porter. During those dark days, she had been too focused with everything to even think about sex, but now having Scylla in her arms...

Raelle quickly refocuses her attention though. She moved her arms and reached for Scylla's legs. Prodding silently she shifted Scylla so that her legs draped over Raelle’s left leg. She then raises her right leg to help support and cradle the clearly tired necro against her shoulder with her arm holding her as close as possible. 

Scylla quickly catches on to what her girlfriend was doing and pulls Raelle’s unoccupied left into her lap. Lacing their fingers together, she holds their hands against her stomach and allows Raelle to hold her. Loving how safe she feels as she rests her head against the blonde’s chest.

“I tried moving towards them, but they sang another seed I didn’t know. One minute I was watching them move towards the hounds, and then the next I was suddenly half a mile away...and there was no sound. We had been in that away for a while, too long apparently. I figured out where I was and ran as quick as I could towards them. When I got there...it was too late. My parents took out the hounds, but they didn’t make it. I fell to my knees near my father first. I tried sensing any life energy, but all that was left was death. I ran to my mother next and I could feel her, barely hanging on...but there was nothing I could do. I knew of the seed, had seen my mother use it before. I tried pulling some of the energy I felt from my father, tried to force it into my mother like she had taught me to do...but being in that before place, that limbo between life and death...without knowing how to hold her there to even receive the energy...there was nothing I could do.” By the end, Scylla’s voice is raspy with the sound of tears, tears that she had never shed in front of another person.

“There is something that is harder to do than trying to save the dying.”

Scylla looks up.

Raelle adopts a small and sad smile. “It’s living the way they would want you to. You were right, back when we first talked in your room. I was ready to waste my life learning only what I needed to get by. Then I would get shipped to the front lines and let myself get blown up as soon as possible. I didn’t want my military career to stretch out like my moms did.”

“What changed?”

“You. Waking up everyday is the hardest thing for me, but knowing that I get to wake up and see you...hold you...” Raelle suddenly chokes, “...love you...that makes all the hard stuff easier.”

Scylla clenches the hand in her grasp before giving a watery smile. 

“I love you too.”

Raelle lowers her head and takes Scylla’s lips in her own. It is not like the kiss earlier, doesn’t have the same sense of urgency.. This one is soft, comforting, and speaks of their trust in one another. 

Scylla’s eyes flutter shut at everything Raelle conveys toward her. She could not believe that this woman had forgiven her. She doesn’t know how yet, but she will spend the rest of her life if needed to show Raelle how much she appreciates and loves her.

After several minutes of their lips slowly moving against each other, passing their love and acceptance back and forth Scylla gently pulls away. Holding her eyes closed she takes a cleansing breath before shifting slightly to face the lake. Opening them she begins to speak, honey warm power behind her words.

**“May they pass to the earth,**

**Carried by the water,**

**Coaxed by the wind,**

**Cleansed by the fire,**

**And brought to the spirit.**

**So let it be”**

The two braided pentagrams begin to seemingly dissolve in the air, the wind carrying them away similar to ashes but shining like lightning bugs. 

Scylla leans back into Raelle again, pulling the blonde's arms so she encircles her waist again.

“Do you mind if we do one for my mom next time?” Raelle whispers into Scylla's ears.

Scylla smiles. “Absolutely, darling.” 

Raelle returns her smile and tightens her arms again. 

They sit there a little longer and just take comfort in their connection.

  
  



	2. Edelweiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I was beta’d again by the wonderful @OnlyNickatNite, who is wonderful for putting up with me and my ocd research habits. I don’t own these lovely characters, but am just playing with them a bit.

_10 Years ago…_

_A small blonde clothed in worn coveralls and a light blue shirt slowly approached the bed in her parents room, a stuffed crow held tightly in her arms. Her daddy had told her to leave her mama to sleep...but it had been_ **_so long_ ** _since she had last seen her. All she wanted was to climb into bed next to her mother, take comfort in her warmth._

_Her mother was facing out, still clothed in her uniform pants and undershirt. The small blondes brow forward as her ice blue eyes took in a dark red line down her mama's jaw. As she got closer, she saw it was angry and red. It reminded her of the time one of the hunting dogs had bitten Jimmy on the leg. His parents had waited a bit too long before coming to see her mother, and it was nearing infection...maybe if her mama had helped Jimmy, she could have helped her mama. She’d heard her say the words often enough. Plus her mama had already started teaching her some._

_With a resolute nod the child placed her crow on the nightstand beside her mama’s bed. She took her mama's hand and began to say the words._

_“Ask and it shall be given you._

_Seek and ye shall find_

_Knock and it shall be opened unto you.”_

_Her mama began to stir, shifting slightly and beginning to frown. The blonde felt a small sting on her cheek, but she was determined to help._

_“For everyone that asketh receiveth_

_And he that seeketh findeth_

_And to him that knocketh it shall be opened_

_For thine is-”_

_Her mama's eyes snapped up, blue meeting blue as the blonde felt a strange dripping on her cheek._

_“Raelle, no!”_

_The blonde yanked her hand from her mama’s, the spell broken. The pain began to make it’s way past the solid determination she had to help her mama, and tears began to well in her eyes._

_Her mama sat up and took her daughter's face in her hands, gently turning it to see what she had done. The small blonde had not been able to take to much of her most recent battle wound. She had used too much energy on the last deployment, and hadn’t wanted to wait around for a medic at the base. All she wanted was to get home. Home to her little girl who now had a marching mark on her face._

_Willa began to hum a soothing seed, meant for warmth and pain relief. She used her thumbs to gently dry Raelle’s tears._

_“Darling, you know you’re not supposed to do this without mama watching. We haven’t gotten far enough in your training yet.” Willa tried to keep the quiver out of her voice caused by the shock of fear that had shot through her._

_Raelle dropped her eyes to the floor. Reaching she took the crow back into her arms._

_“I’m sorry mama, I just wanted to help.”_

_Willa chuckled, “I know, baby. Here, let's get you cleaned up and then we can cuddle a bit ok? You can keep mama company.”_

_The small blonde nodded and reached her arms up. _Willa smiled and pulled her daughter as she moved to stand, cuddling her close before walking out the room..._ _

As the memory faded, Raelle shook her head before focusing on the task in front of her. 

The dummies came at her in relatively quick succession. She stands between two lines of them, a scourge in each hand. First one comes to her right and she does a simple over hand flick before she removes its head. To her left the second begins to come just past her and she performs a quick about face, swinging the right scourge counter clockwise twice over her head and taking that one out as well.

She hears two dummies release simultaneously and holds her position, allowing the ends of the falls of the two scourges to rest near her feet. Crossing her arms over her chest, she snaps her arms straight out. The tips shining bright red, she clotheslines the remaining two dummies just as they would have passed her. 

Raelle blows her blonde forelock out of the way as the straw remains of the dummies begin to fall around her. 

“You know, I think I’m going to start making sure you get to training on time...well, and come with you. Otherwise I wouldn’t get to see you looking all hot and sexy over there.” A voice calls out from behind.

Raelle chuckles as she turns and begins to wind up the scourges. 

Leaning against the doorframe stands Scylla in her full uniform, fresh from class. That was the thing about dating a necro. They usually didn’t finish training until after everyone. She has an affectionate smile on her lips, eyes twinkling in that way of hers that was so freeing given everything going on around them. 

“So what’s a girl like you, doing in a place like this?” Raelle asks as she begins to walk forward. As she closes in on her girlfriend she finishes winding both scorges and stores them in their holsters on her belt.

Scylla smirked, “To be honest, I don’t really know. You see my girlfriend is just a humble fixer, there is no way she would be in the rough room flexing her muscles at this hour. Have you seen her maybe? She’s about your height, short blonde hair. Pretty cocky though.”

Raelle moves in close and raises one hand above Scylla's head to the door jam, supporting herself as she moves the other to her girlfriend's waist.

The blonde begins to lean in closer, whispers “I might have seen her...but I definitely need to check something first,” before she gently captures Scylla’s lips with her own. 

Scylla allows her bag to fall to her feet. She moves one hand to twist into Raelle’s shirt, while the other hand works its way into the blonde's hair as she surges into the kiss. As their lips slip together Scylla takes Raelle’s bottom lip between her teeth with gentle tug. As Raelle lets out a soft groan, Scylla allows her smirk to make its way to her face.

With a soft sigh and a parting nip at the crease of Scylla's lips, Raelle slowly withdraws just the slightest bit so she can meet her girlfriend’s gaze. 

“Just let me get changed and we can get out of here, okay?”

Scylla's smirk grows as her dancing turquoise eyes meet Raelle’s smoldering ice blue.

“Why Ms. Collar, I don't quite know what you think of me. I am a lady.”

Raelle answers with a smirk of her own, “Yes, ma’am you are...and I plan to show you exactly how we treat ladies in the south...multiple times.” Raelle exaggerates her cession drawl more than normal, knowing how it turns her girlfriend on.

Scylla closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath after the bolt of heat makes its way through her body at the words. Opening them again she rocks forward for one last quick kiss before raising her hand and pushing reluctantly against her girlfriend’s chest.

“Well come on then, let's get you changed. I've got something I want to give you anyway before we get too...distracted.’’

With differing senses of purpose, they quickly make their way to the locker rooms. 

As Raelle moves to a locker with her name on it, Scylla sits on a nearby bench with her bag in her lap. She hugs it closed with her arms crossed over it. She was nervous, she had no clue how Raelle would receive her gift. It wasn’t exactly the most normal thing ever….then again, neither were they.

“So, what has got you so nervous?” Raelle asks as she walks toward Scylla while pulling a clean shirt over her head at the same time. 

Scylla's eyes follow the path of the shirt as it covers her girlfriend's washboard abs... _Maybe I can let myself get a bit distracted first? No!_ She reaches for Raelle’s hand and guides her to sit on the bench next to her. After she is seated, Scylla reaches into the bag and pulls out a coil of leather. She sets the bag at their feet and holds the Scourge in her lap, running her hands slowly, almost reverently over the leather.

“Scyl…”

Scylla licks her lips before she begins, “Anytime we had to leave one of our safe houses, we would have to leave practically everything behind. We each had a simple go bag. Quite a few times, we would have to leave our scourges behind and fashion new ones whenever we got to a new location. When I was finally old enough, my parents would have me help them.”

The leather was a light grey, differing from the rusty or deep red that most of the scourges that the men had brought with them on Beltane. Scylla slowly hands it to Raelle, who takes the scourge in her hands naturally, feeling almost as if it were a part of herself like an extension of her arm or something that she never knew she had been missing. Raelle could feel the power radiating from it like the heat from an untended oven, different from the scourges both Porter and Byron had fashioned and given to her...well Byron had given her his. Porter’s had been a gift. A very solemn gift.

The one Byron made felt cool to the touch, yet refreshing, almost like the spray from a cold shower on a hot day. It was soothing as though he’d somehow made it knowing that she would need that calming energy for the hard days to come. Porter’s was...well, his scourge felt...uncertain. It was hard to put into words, but there seemed to be dual energies writhing within it that didn’t quite know how to work together, like two parallel currents of electricity that were trying to overpower one another, not charge the same body. 

Scylla’s scourge though...just feels...like so much more than the others somehow. Its power laps at her with the gentleness of low tide waves, but with a heat that was immediately comfortable in her hands. It feels the way Raelle feels every time she's allowed to wake up with Scylla in her arms. 

It feels like home.

Smooth leather ended in an exposed oak wood handle that fit Raelle’s grip like a glove. There was a protective energy radiating from it as well. The handle had been lovingly carved full of miniature pentagrams and intricate markings, their dark lines burned nimbly into the lighter colored wood. Light grey leather tapered towards the end, streaks of dark gray spattering the thong as it came to the fall hitch. The metal around the fall hitch was damascus, with the darker and lighter steels alternating in a pattern resembling roses and vines. It cradles a nine sided crystal of amber instead of the traditional obsidian, it’s purposeful shape me using it with the energy of the Goddess. That was where most of the warmth Raelle could feel was pulsating from, reminding her of Scylla’s warmth. Making a scourge was no simple task, her mother had made sure she knew the work that went into one. The fact that Scylla made her one, particularly one that had clearly taken so much work and time...

“The ones the men make are traditionally made from male kangaroos,” Raelle snorts, “I know, right? This scourge was made from a female that lived out her life at a sanctuary in Australia. My mother knew the witch that ran it, and instead of selling it, she allowed me to have it. The female hyde is more powerful, they're the ones that protect their young until they are ready for the world. The fill is clear quartz beads, that’ll help with channelling your energy through the scourge. That along with the sigils I burned into the handle for protection and focus will make you practically unstoppable.”

Raelle tries to absorb everything that Scylla tells her, amazed at the thoughtfulness and obvious hard work that had gone into the making of this one object. She hadn’t heard another witch talk about their work like this in such a long time. Tears began to burn to life in the corners of her eyes and suddenly her voice had a tightness to it that was reserved for mentions of the mother she grew up revering and never stopped missing.

“My mama would have loved you,” she whispers as her grip tightens on the scourge and her vision blurred slightly around the edges. 

Scylla is taken aback, “What?”

Raelle nods her head, “My mama loved talking about her work. How it related to the wider world and related to the Cession where we lived. She started me on it young, that's why I know so much fixing and hand to hand combat. She also helped the local medicine woman when she was on leave, bringing back ingredients that we wouldn’t have normally had from her deployments,” Raelle let out a rueful chuckle before continuing, “Her edelweiss extract was the most potent among the local tribes. She’d had a younger sister, too. Her name was Viola. After my grandmother died, my mama had to finish raising her because she was still pretty young. Before she had me, Viola died...only 6 months out of war college. Mama was determined that wouldn’t happen to me. Despite her work taking almost everything from her...she loved what she did. Loved helping others. Didn’t matter if they were civilians or witches or whatever. We all look the same on the inside, all heal the same way for the most part. When you look at it that way, there’s no point to all the bullshit people do to each other trying to prove one species is better than the other. She made _**damn**_ sure I knew that.”

Scylla allows silence to fall naturally between them while she finds the right words. She knew Raelles mother meant the world to her, but to hear from the making woman in front of her that Willa Collar would have approved of her...Scylla pushed down the guilt that rose within her at the things that she had done, the things she **_was_ **doing to her girlfriend...

“From what I can tell, I think I would have loved her too.” Scylla finally says softly as she takes Raelle’s hand and brings it up to her lips, kissing it gently and trying to convey as much love as she could in that single action. 

Raelle twists her head and their eyes meet again. Lowering their joined hands to her lap atop the scourge, the blonde moves forward and gently takes Scylla’s lips with her own. _I will never get tired of this or her,_ Raelle thinks as their lips slide against one another. Mouths opened gently and tongues began to battle one another as they stole the breath from each other’s lungs in the same way they had been doing subconsciously every time they kissed since that first kiss in Scylla’s room that seemed so far away that it might have happened in another lifetime. The Raelle of then would have never been able to imagine this type of love, this certainty of it. That Raelle had been prepared to die on the battlefield so this miserable existence of hers would be over before it could get even more miserable, but Scylla--snarky, beautiful, clever Scylla--had changed the entire course of Raelle’s life with a few words and a confident kiss.

Quickly pulling away, Scylla moved quickly to straddle Raelle. Her hands cradle both sides of the blonde’s neck as she surges to connect their lips again, a thumb slowly massaging Raelle’s pulse point almost involuntarily. 

Raelle let out a groan and felt her pulse quicken at Scyla’s ministrations, able to hear the blood pounding in her ears like the loudest of thunder. She braces her hands on the brunette's hips and encourages her closer, wanting to feel their connection as deeply as possible.

Their lips continue their war of mutual affection, the only audible sounds echoing off of the tiled walls were of their harsh breaths and light gasps. As Raelle just began working her hand under Scylla's shirt she finally registered the increasing warmth in her lap that had nothing to do with the girl on top of her. 

With a whimper from Scylla, Raelle suddenly pulled away, “Wait.”

Scylla's brow furrows in confusion as she follows her girlfriend’s gaze to what little she can see of her lap between them. Suddenly, a look of recognition dawns on her face and Scylla chuckles softly.

“Well that’s one way to finish charging it...” Scylla says, watching the dull amber crystal pulse gold from within as if it had its own heartbeat

Raelle was still confused, “But I thought it was the overload of energy on Beltane that gave the scourges most of their power?”

To her surprise Scylla ducks her head, blushing in a way she had not done in years, “So...I may have already had this finished before today and...charged it myself on Beltane. I couldn’t really find a good time to give it to you with everything going on, and they wouldn’t have let me interrupt the...festivities. Us coming together like this must have completed the spell.”

Scylla's face takes on a serious look and she transitions her hands to the sides of Raelle’s face, “I need you to promise me something. Promise that you will keep this with you at all times. I need to know that you're protected. No matter how invincible you think you are, you’re not.’’

Raelle recognizes the seriousness of her words, and how much weight Scylla gives them. She raises her hands to cover the brunette’s. 

“I promise. Porter’s never really felt right, no matter how much I appreciated the sentiment from Witchfather. I actually have something for you too, it’s just not done quite yet. I’ll have it done by the wedding.” To reinforce her promise she removes Porter's scourge from its holster on her waist and replaces it with Scyllas, instantly content with the comforting warmth.

Scylla quirks an eyebrow, “So, High Atlantic changed her mind?” 

Raelle chuckles, “Not quite, but I’m working on it. I want you there with me. In the meantime…” her eyes take on a mischievous glint. 

Scylla has no time to prepare before Raelle moves her hands to support Scylla's thighs as the blonde quickly stands and leverages Scylla against the lockers in front of them. Quickly catching her hint, Scylla tightens her legs around Raelles waist and rocks up into her. Raelle pulls a gasp from Scylla as she begins to nip and kiss at the sensitive skin of Scylla's neck.

“How about we see if we can get anymore... ** _charge_**...into the scourge,” Raelle mouths against Scylla’s alabaster skin.

All Scylla can do is nod in agreement. Her mind quickly fades away from all of the problems closing in on them. The Spree. The Army. The Bellweather Wedding. Everything just fades into nothingness and all that’s left in the safety and contentment of her girlfriend's arms.

  
  



	3. Gladiolus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...I’m sorry?

Gladiolus

Silence. That's all there was, surrounding her. Engulfing her. **Suffocating her.**

Raelle is not sure how long she's been laying in her bunk. If she was eating the food that Tally was religiously bringing her, she might have known, but everything she tried to choke down tasted like ash in her mouth. She would only force herself to swallow what little she managed to chew when she became so weak that she was close to passing out.

She curls into a tighter ball on her bunk, clutching Scylla's jacket around her; facing the wall. It’s one of the few things she had managed to stuff into a bag before some upperclassman from necro went and boxed up everything in her girlfriend’s room. 

She couldn’t understand at first when Abigail had told her. That some stranger was going to go into her girlfriends room, without Scylla’s **permission** , and just...pack everything away like they didn’t matter, like **Scylla** didn’t matter. And that is the crux of the problem isn’t it? To them, to the Army...Scylla didn’t matter. None of them truly did. The individual wasn’t important; only the collective.

They classified her officially as Missing in Action (M.I.A.), but with her combat charm that Raelle had made her found in a pool of blood--once the fixers had been able to match said blood to some hair in her bedroom--that had pretty much changed the verdict for them from M.I.A. to Killed in Action (K.I.A.) It also didn’t help that no one that they knew of had ever escaped a Spree attack alive.

“Raelle?” A hesitant whisper broke the silence as a hand peaks through the quilt serving as the only barrier between the blonde in her bunk and the outside worLed she was trying desperately to ignore. The hand slowly pulls it back, revealing Tally with a concerned and unsure look on her face.

“What Tal?” Raelle’s voice is rough from disuse. She’s managed to not say a word since she told Anacostia to fuck off, that she wasn’t crazy. That she would know if Scylla was well and truly gone for good. Their connection was just that solid; that strong.

Tally takes a deep breath-steeling herself-before saying what she has to say, “Anacostia wanted me to tell you that if you’re not at training tomorrow morning, she’s going to windstrike you from here to Mt. St Helen.” 

When Anacostia had first passed her the message, Tally was completely sure that their drill sergeant had lost her mind or at least had to be exaggerating, but just the way it had been said, had put those two theories immediately to rest.

Raelle snorts, “Sure Tal, whatever.”

The silence falls again until there is a small squeak of old springs and a dip in the mattress. Raelle clenches her eyes as tight as she can when she feels the warmth of her friend’s reassuring presence begin to leach in. Tally doesn’t reach out to hold her, doesn’t rub circles on her back; she’s just there and for that Raelle finds herself suddenly grateful.

“Are you sure they took her? Maybe she got away?” Despite what she had seen in the bathroom, Tally had begun to have her doubts. When she thought back to the conversation, Scylla had sounded so nervous, so unsure. Not like a committed Spree operative at all. And there had been so much blood…

Raelle whips around and sits up before she can barely finish the sentence, “Yes, Tally. I would know. She would have come for me already. She promised me, if she was ever going to run she would take me with her.” Her face is scrunched in anger, cheeks blotchy and tear soaked. And her eyes...her eyes are red from lack of sleep and pain. Tally had never seen another person with so much anguish, not even her mom on the anniversaries of her Aunts’ deaths.

Tears come to Tally’s eyes, “But...what if she wasn’t exactly what she said she was?”

Raelles face takes on a look of confusion, “What do you mean Tally?” 

Tally rises from the bed and begins to pace the length of their room, wringing her hands.

She stops in front of Raelle who has risen during her pacing.

“I can’t be a sister, and a liar to you Raelle. I was in the bathroom at one point during the wedding. I had been sobbing my eyes out over Gerit and someone came into the bathroom. I hid, but when they started talking I peeked through the door. It was Scylla...talking to a balloon in the mirror...which out loud sounds crazy, but she was talking about getting someone to an extraction point and-“ Tally cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. She watches Raelle closely for a reaction, but she just stares off with her mouth slightly open and brow furrowed. 

A million thoughts began to race through Raelle’s mind...there was no way that Scylla was Spree, she would KNOW. But then again…all of the strange things that Scylla had done and said...

Scylla’s eyes had been mischievous when she had come to Scylla’s room that first time. When she had kissed her all thought disappeared from her mind.

_“I know a way out.”_

After Porter’s death, when she had felt so confused…Scylla’s eyes had been so guarded.

_“What are you implying, that I did something to him? Is that the kind of person you think I am?”_

But then...there were the good things…SO MANY good things that she had said...were they all a lie?

Scylla staring deep into her eyes, earnest affection clear.

_“If I do get the urge to run...I’ll take you with me.”_

Scylla's eyes watering slightly as she spoke after Beltane.

_“I need to get this out before I freak out, shut down, and run away. I like you, okay? I have feelings for you. And they’re...not something I’m used to having...not something I’m used to dealing with...I’m a dodger, which means no attachments. Because things go away...we go away...I haven’t learned to get past this...but I’m trying...I don’t know...if I’m ever-“ The feel of Scylla's lips as Raelle had become overcome and just had to kiss her necro._

Scylla's eyes danced as she thanked Raelle for calling her, her girlfriend, to her superior officer.

And then...the one time she hadn’t seen her girlfriends eyes, but had really hoped she had..

_“No matter what happens...I love you.”_

Raelle had been so overcome when Scylla told her that, that she just wanted to stay in that moment, hold onto the feeling that Scylla had given her…but then she reached further back, to before that moment…before the Spree attacked.

There had been fear and uncertainty in Scylla's eyes when Raelle had asked her to dance, just for a minute. But then resolution. All Raelle could remember before was how warm, how safe she had felt holding Scylla in her arms, guiding her gently around the dance floor. 

Then the clock had struck six and her girlfriend had gone still, staring at it as it chimed.

_“Scyl, what’s wrong? You look pale?” Raelle had asked._

_Scylla seemed to try shaking it off, “Nothing, I’m good. I’m fine.”_

_“You sure?” She asked again._

_Despite not seeming to be, Scylla had still replied, “I’m...good...Let’s just dance.”_

At that last assurance, at the time Raelle had felt a little uneasy, concerned about might be wrong. She had pulled her as close as possible. Cheek to cheek, the slightly shorter girl as close as she could be.

Raelle had felt so warm, so at home...like nothing could touch her. The words came through again…

_“No matter what happens, I love you…”_

Raelle had nuzzled into Scylla's neck with a smile, laying a few kisses along the ivory column. So overcome with emotion…

_“No matter what happens…”_

Raelle suddenly came to stand quickly, startling Tally who had become concerned.

“Tally, was there anyone else that you told?” Raelle asks.

The redhead sputters slightly, confused about the sudden change in demeanor.

“What do you mean?”

Raelle moves quickly to her closet and works to pull out clean clothes and begins to change quickly.

“I mean, is there anyone else that knows? They have her listed as K.I.A., Tal. That means either they know she was Spree and don’t care about rescuing her. Or that she’s actually...gone. But I would know if she was, Tal. I don’t know what she did, but we’re connected, I can feel her humming just under my skin. If Scylla was Spree, she wasn’t at the end. You said she was talking about an extraction point?” After changing Raelle moves to sit on her bunk again and reaches for her boots under her bunk. As she does, she sees the pink flower that Scylla had given her after Beltane in one of the boots. The necro had taught of a seed sound that held it in a preserved state. There’s no way that her sexy weirdo was going to sacrifice her to the spree...instead, she sacrificed HERSELF.

Tally finally begins to catch up, “Yea, she said something about needing instructions for an extraction point...but then she said something about making sure that whoever she was bringing would be safe, if she should wait for her…but Raelle, if she really is spree...”

Raelle moves the flower back to its rightful home woven through her dream catcher and leans forward to finish tying off her boots.

“She chose me Tal. She wanted me to go on a walk with her, but she CHOSE ME. I asked her to dance with me for a minute, and she did. Just before all the shit went down, she looked scared but she brushed it off. She just kept dancing. Then she told me she loves me, Tal. She LOVES me. She chose to not take me to them. If she is, or was Spree, her and I can deal with it later. All that matters, is getting her back.”

As Raelle finishes her speech she moves forward to stand in front of her friend-her sister. She understands how Tally feels about the world. Tally wants to be able to help everyone, but Tally only sees the world in black and white. She doesn’t see the shades of gray. Vise versa, Raelle had grown up in the shades of gray. A white person near the cession, with a civilian father, and no siblings or cousins to speak of. All she’d had were the Chippewa kids. She grew with them, learned with them, hurt with them. She knew a bit more about the advantages and disadvantages of the world.

Raelle tilts her head to make sure she has Tally’s attention, “Now this is very important, Tally. Did. You. Tell. Anyone?’’

Barely a whisper from her sister, “Anacostia. She’s the only one I could think of to trust.”

Raelle nods her head then, “Ok, perfect...I’m going straight to Alder then.” She grabs her bag hanging from her bedpost and quickly leaves the room. 

As the door closes behind her, it still takes another minute for the words to catch up to Tally. Once they do, she begins to race after Raelle.

* * *

Tally wasn’t able to catch up to Raelle until she breezed through the barrack’s front doors. The smaller blonde’s jaw is fixed as she quickly marches across campus towards the general’s office.

The redhead grabs Raelle by the arm, pulling her to a stop and marking her turn around, “What do you mean you’re going to Alder? You can’t just go to Alder.”

Raelle works her jaw, the muscles Visibly tense, “Why not? Abigail can, so that she could try and ditch us. Why can’t I go to tell her that instead of ABANDONING the brightest second year necro cadet with a change of heart, that she can rescue her and get some intel on the spree and be a decent human being for once?”

Tally is taken aback. Thoughts race through her mind. Thoughts about meeting Scylla for the first time, about seeing the love and adoration in her eyes at the wedding. How much Raelle’s behavior had changed since meeting Scylla. Still...

“But what if you’re wrong?” Tally pleads.

“And what if I’m right? Anacostia isn’t going to do anything, she has as much as told me to just forget about her and move on. But I can’t, Tal. I love her. I may be rushing this, but I at least know that I can’t just leave campus and take on a terrorist organization myself. I need help. I need you with me, Tally.” Raelle pleads with Tally.

Tally feels torn. While she had seen how Scylla clearly cares for Raelle, with everything she knew about the spree, all the people they had killed. Her eyes fall as she tries working through everything. 

Raelle sees that she almost has her friend on her side and steps forward, forcing Tally to look up from the ground and meet her eyes. 

The amount of longing and fear Tally see’s in Raelles ice blue eyes. She has seen her friends fire, her anger, her frustration...the blonde doesn’t let anyone see the sadness, so the fact that she is baring it to Tally…

“What if it was Gerit, Tal? I know stuff with him is still messed up, but if you heard he was in trouble...would you still do anything you could to help him?” Raelle pleads again.

That last comparison allows Tally to follow her gut, to follow her friend, her sister.

The redhead nods, “You’re right...I would do as much as I could...but if we’re going to get an audience with Alder, we can’t go off completely half-cocked. We need Abigail. As a unit, right?” Tally leaves no room for negotiation and grabs Raelles arm, leaving no room for argument as they make their way to the rough room. 

Raelle groans slightly along the way, but follows. The more she struggles against Tally, the longer it would take to get to Alders office.

* * *

Abigail takes a deep breath before raising her hand to knock before lowering her arm again and turning to her comrades...and her bodyguard standing behind them.

“So why am I subjecting myself to Alder’s ridicule again?” 

Raelle rolls her eyes, “Listen, if you’re too chicken shit I’ll just go in there myself. You got us past the secretary, which is literally the hardest part. If you don’t think you’re up for helping me rescue my girlfriend, fine, but get out of my way.” She wasn’t sure how much more time she could take to explain this to Abigail. They had wasted so much already…

Abigail raises her hands in acquiescence, “Ok, ok fine. But if her and the biddies yell at me again, it’s on you.” She turns around and knocks with three solid raps. 

“Enter,” is heard a second later. 

With a deep breath Abigail twists the handle and the four enter. All four enter a single file and stand before Alders desk, the seven Biddies working about the room at various tasks. There was a hitch that they hadn’t planned on...Anacostia was leaning over something on Alder’s desk, pointing various things out. 

“Fuck,” Raelle whispers into the silence.

Both Anacostia and Alders heads snap up as the Biddies chitter around them.

A look of steely anger overtakes Anacostia's face as she stands to full height. Her arms automatically move to behind her back as she begins to walk toward her unit.

“Private Collar,” she begins as she comes to stand in front of the recruit in question, “I see you have finally come out of your pity party. I assume you’re here to tell me that you’re ready to continue with the land of the living and resume training?”

“Actually-“ Abigail tries to begin before Raelle cuts her off.

“Actually,” Raelle interrupts and moves forward into her sergeant's space. She doesn’t let the severe night difference deter her though as she looks up and straight into Anacostias eyes, “I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong about Scylla Ramshorn, and to begin planning a rescue operation...ma’am.” 

“I’ve told you before Private, Ramshorn is no longer your concern. She is dead, and you would do well to move past it and resume training.”

By now Alder has moved to stand in front of her desk, arms crossed. Curious at how Anacostia is going to handle this. 

Fire begins to light even brighter in Raelle's eyes, “Tally told me about what she saw,” a sharp look from Anacostia to Tally who fights to meet her eyes and not look down, “You don’t know Scylla like I do. Sure her family were dodgers, and ok maybe she could be a bit manipulative,” a snort from Abigail that Raelle quickly silences with a look before redirecting to Anacostia again, “She could have brought me to them, but she didn’t. They wanted me. I have no clue why, and I don’t really care. All I know is, she is alive and I am going to find her. I came here for **General Alder’s** help, not yours. So you can either help me...or **get out of my way!** ” There was power in Raelle's statement, spoken through teeth clenched in anger.

“Stand down, Private!” A cacophony of voices invades the room, but Raelle holds fast, not looking down.

As Alder begins to move forward, Anacostia backs away allowing Alder to come stand in front of Raelle. This is the closest Raelle has ever been to the centuries old general, and the ancient magic simply radiates off of her. Alder begins to walk around her, appraising. 

“You know, Private, I’ve heard many things about you from Anacostia. That you’re brash, unfocused, prone to anger and backtalk, and essentially unmilitary.” By the time she finishes her appraisal Adler is standing in Raelle’s field of vision, standing at parade rest, “She has also said that you, along with your unit, are some of the most talented witches to grace these halls in decades.”

Raelle finally loses her composure and allows her jaw to drop along with her sisters’. Alder allows a smile to break before gesturing to a round war table with enough chairs for all. The younger witches wait for their superior to take her seat before taking their own. Abigail's new bodyguard, Bridey, stands vigil at the door.

“So,” Alder begins. She takes a second to meet the eyes of the three young witches before her before resting on Raelle’s, “You have some concerns about our decisions concerning Private Ramshorn?”

Raelle takes a few moments to gather her thoughts, not dropping her gaze from Alder’s. If she has any chance of convincing the General, she cannot show weakness. At the same time, holding the centuries old witch’s gaze doesn’t feel threatening. It reminds her of summers visiting nearby tribes with her mother. She would slip away to where the horses were, attracted to their wild look and spirit. She remembers watching one woman in particular work to calm an angry colt that had been bucking and rearing all over. The woman maintained eye contact whenever she was able to catch it with the horse. She never spoke, never raised her arms. Just began to move forward slowly until the horse had calmed down.

Raelle holds Alders gaze, feeling the sort of calm she believes that horse had felt, “This is going to take a lot for me to say, and my unit can attest that this isn’t quite like me...but I will do what I need to save Scylla. When I first came here, General, I didn’t care about war college, civilians, or even my unit. My focus was to get deployed at the first chance I could, become war meat and get it over with. I wasn’t going to go out like my mother, charged by lightning after 30 years of taking on everyone’s pain time and time again. They had to break her out of a tomb of glass, General.” Raelle sees Alder clench her jaw, understanding that she remembers the event.

The blonde continues, paying no mind to her unit, “I didn’t want to go through that pain, and I didn’t want any daughters to feel it either. When I first became attracted to Scylla, she convinced me there was another way. She told me to just work on getting stronger. So I did, and we became closer. And my feelings for her overshadowed that. But then, our unit found our footing, they became my sisters. It wasn’t about taking down the military, it was about supporting each other. In turn, my time with Scylla changed her. It wasn’t about her parents, it wasn’t about getting me to the Spree. She had her chance to bring me to them, and she didn’t.”

Abigail and Tally, who are sitting on either side of her, reach forward and each take one of Raelle’s hands. 

Alder takes in the overload of information and attempts to process it. There was one thing that stood out to her though. She gestures to everyone at the table to remain seated and moves toward one of the bookcases that holds dozens of framed photographs from various times throughout her long life. She reaches for the correct one, a sepia colored photo of her and a much shorter woman who had her hair braided down the side.

She walks over and hands the picture to Raelle, who takes it and runs her hand over the woman in the photo with Alder...she recognizes her easily.

“Your Grandmother Lillian was One of the bravest woman I’ve known, at the time the most recent of an otherwise silent line of fixers. She had a way about her though, a mixture of knower and fixer. She could convince the most stubborn of Generals, and she did many times...and she was always right. I failed to protect her daughters,” Alders voice cracks here and Raelle looks up to see the honesty in her eyes, “If you believe in Private Ramshorn so much...we will work on a plan to extract her.”

“But General-“ Anacostia tries to interrupt before being silenced with a look.

Alder focuses her attention back to Raelle before holding out her right hand expectantly. Raelle lowers her age to the hand before raising it. The general raises an eyebrow, “Do we have an accord?”

Raelle looks back to the hand in front of her before rising from her seat and reaching to take Alders hand, “We do,” she says and gives the hand a firm shake, just like her mama taught her.

The General smiles before noticing something strange about the hand gripped in her own. Before Raelle can say anything Alder turns her hand so the palm faces up and her brows furrow in concentrations. To others there is nothing suspicious, but for Alder there is a warmth, a familiarity.

By now the rest of the room rises to their feet as well, crowding around the pair. The Biddies are humming quietly in the background. Alder begins to utter a low frequency, just above auditory and runs her hand over Raelle’s in a waving motion. Revealed is the S shape from the bit of work Scylla had done on her. Raelle had tried numerous times to send a message, ask if she was ok, even just a hi-but nothing had come through. Just the low pressure of energy that had become constant since the day Scylla placed it there. 

Alder stares at the mark for what feels like hours, the biddies falling in silence around them. When she finally looks up to meet Raelles eyes there are tears in her own eyes.

“Where...did you get this?” Alder whispers brokenly. 

All Raelle can do is stare in shock at her.

* * *

*drip*

*drip*

*drip*

This is the only sound that she has heard for days. The only way she even knows that it has been days, is the little crack of light that has invaded her earthen prison. Unfortunately, she knew exactly where she was. When she was first brought into the Spree, they had made a good show of what would happen if she were to betray them. At the time she would have never thought it possible...but then Raelle turned her world upside down.

Scylla burrows her head further into her arms, her jacket long sacrificed. Parts were used as a tourniquet for her leg where a Spree operative had quickly disabled her from behind before snatching her and running away. The rest as a cheap excuse for covering when the cold and moisture invades at night. 

It wasn’t the cold, the incessant drip, or even the pervading darkness that was the most mentally invasive. It was the feeling...of nothing.

She hadn’t been spinning tales while she was impersonating Graves during Raelle’s guard assignment. Death has a resonance, one that necros felt at all times. That’s partly why they are kept separate. If you have a recruit who isn’t used to it, they can go crazy with the power. Pulling from places they shouldn’t. Here in her prison though...even though she was underground, the prison was in a mine that used to be used for mining silver and copper. And where there’s silver and copper...there’s lead. One of the few things that can block a witch's workings. She remembers when she had first joined, her handler had brought her here to see what would happen if she ever betrayed them. At the time, she was quite confident in the mission and her role in it...now...

Now, she is cut off for the first time in her life. She has nothing...accept her memories. 

Raelle’s smile, how her eyes crinkle just before she moves in for a kiss, the way she bites her lip when she’s nervous…

She cannot count the number of times she has tried passing the word help through the connection she had created between the two...but there was nothing. And she was still here. There were only two possibilities then. Either the lead was so strong that she couldn’t get through...or she had, but Raelle had found out she was spree. That she had betrayed her. Which meant that she wouldn’t be coming for her. 

Scylla clenches her eyes as tears leak out again. She digs her nails into her dirtied forearms until angry half moon shapes appear.

She’s not sure how much longer she will last, she can feel her strength waning. They only bring her bread and water once or twice a day, and it never fills the hole growing in her stomach. Between her physical strength failing and that of her magic...well, it’s only a matter of time now. And maybe that’s what she deserves. 

She remembers when she was younger, and her and her parents would have to hide inside for days at a time. The only way her mother had been able to occupy her, had been through creating songs of happy memories. Nothing too complicated. When they started visiting different countries in their avoidance of the military, her mother helped her learn the different languages through these songs they had created.

Pulling away from her resting position Scylla sits up and leans against the dirt wall. Her tongue slips out to moisten cracked and dried lips before her broken voice fills the air, trying to pull every happy memory with her love that she can.

Låt oss springa iväg

Till fyren

På havet

Där vi kan vara fria

Lämna våra medaljer på dörren 

Fåglarna ska sjunga våra farväl 

Låt oss springa iväg 

Vart du än leder

Jag ska följa 

Där vi kan vara fria

Lämna våra bekymmer bakom oss

För att vem du än är

Jag är i detta med dig 

Spela ingen roll vad som händer 

Jag är i detta med dig

Så låt oss springa iväg 

Där vi kan vara fria 

Och snälla kom ihåg 

Spela ingen roll vad som händer 

Jag älskar dig 

Jag älskar dig

Scylla’s voice cracks and fades as she loses consciousness and slumps against the wall of her dirt prison.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @RayllaThirst for the translation to Swedish. I’m of the theory, with Scylla traveling all over she more than likely knows multiple languages. Also to @OnlyNickatNight for being my beta once again, I put her through hell with this one. 
> 
> “Let’s runaway  
> To the lighthouse  
> On the sea  
> Where we can be free
> 
> Leave our medals  
> On the door  
> The birds will sing  
> Our Goodbyes
> 
> Let’s runaway  
> Wherever you lead  
> I will follow  
> Where we can be free
> 
> Leave our problems behind  
> Because whoever you are  
> I’m in this with you  
> No matter what happens
> 
> I’m in this with you  
> So let’s runaway  
> Where we can be free
> 
> And please remember  
> No matter what happens  
> I love you  
> I love you”


	4. Iris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some explanations and some action.

“You know, Scylla...if you had simply done as you were told, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” 

Scylla continues to stare ahead, her wrists above her head and shackled to the wall. She feels the metal digging into her skin, blood dripping down her arms. Her ankles are restrained similarly. The only clothing they have left her is her torn uniform pants and tank top. Her limbs have gone numb from the cold. More blood is running from cuts along her legs and chest; the results of her captor’s attempts at torture. 

They’re not even really trying to get information...they just want to cause her pain.

The figure moves in closer and begins to press the knife into one of the so far unmarred sections of skin she has left. The pain is immediate and Scylla takes her already cracked and dry bottom lip between her teeth to try and hold in her scream as the knife begins to make its way into her flesh slowly.

They grin, “Well, it’s a little too late for that, we can’t change the past after all...but don’t worry, we’ll still get her...and we will make sure to have your corpse hanging here when we do,” they quickly pull the knife back and Scylla releases her lip with a whimper before allowing her chin to drop listlessly to her chest.

* * *

Alder continues to stare at the ‘S’ on Raelle’s palm.

“I’ll ask again, Private...where did you get this?” The general asks through clenched teeth as she raises her eyes to Raelle’s.

Raelle swallows nervously before answering, “Scylla Ramshorn, ma’am...she told me it was a bit of work she cooked up. She wanted to always be able to say hi to me is what she said. I only saw the mark appear once since she’s been gone, but I feel this...humming in my palm all of the time.”

Alder clenches and unclenches her jaw before releasing Raelle’s hand and moving toward one of the bookcases. She quickly pulls an extremely large and old book from the shelf before making her way back to the table and setting it down reverently. The binding is a dark leather, worn and flaking. On the cover is a depiction of the tree of life, it’s root system curling up along the spine. 

“General, is that..?” Tally begins to ask.

“Yes, Craven...this is the Codex. It holds the family history of every matriline in North America.” Alder pauses before opening the book and beginning to flip through the pages, “Some lines have been lost to time, to death-” she stops as she seems to land on the section she is looking for. She follows one of the lines on the page, tracing with her finger slowly from the bottom to the top of the page. Letting out a light exhale as her finger pauses towards the top she collapses to the chair behind her, the biddies letting out a low sigh of exhaustion around them. 

Everyone in the room wears almost identical expressions of confusion. As Alder raises her hands to a thoughtful steeple in front of her face, Raelle slowly moves forward to see the line the general was studying. A single word stood out to her even upside down:

_Ramshorn_

“What does this have to do with Scylla?” Raelle asks, filling her voice with a solidness of confidence that she didn’t feel.

Several more minutes of silence go by, hanging in the room between them all like a fearful miasma as Alder continues to stare at the Codex with a blank look on her face. The only sound as they waited was composed of the discontented hum of the biddies in the background while all of them stood around staring awkwardly at each other as they waited for Alder’s acknowledgement. 

Anacostia is the one who finally breaks the untenable quiet. 

“General?” She asks, stepping forward slightly.

Alder startles, her head turning sharply in their direction. The biddies go silent. The centuries old witch clenches her jaw again before returning her attention to the Codex.

“What I’m about to tell you, has been lost to history. As time has passed, so has everyone who knew about the time surrounding my agreement to the Salem Accord. Something you have to understand...things were...different then. The rules of engagement among witches and civilians, witches and witches. Things were just done differently.

“My sister, Mary, who I had to watch be hung from the gallows...wasn’t my only sister. I had an older sister, named Rebecca. They’d had her at the courthouse, forcing her to watch as they hung her two youngest sisters. When I released our family's songs, it changed everything. That mark on your hand-” Alder gestures to Raelle’s hand, “carries the resonance of our family line. That S doesn’t stand for Scylla, it stands for Slainté-an Irish toast to good health. It carries the resonance of my sister with it. We created the work as teenagers, to pay tribute to our father’s heritage. Rebeca would have soon been expected to find a partner. It allowed us to remind each other that our connection as sisters would always be the strongest.” 

Alder releases the same low song as earlier when she held Raelle’s hand, twisting both hands so the palms of both her own hands are facing up. Two faint marks appear, clearly faded with time.

“The connection severed with Mary as they dropped the floor from under her feet...Rebecca wasn’t until much later. After our sisters death, after I released the song that changed our lives, and after I signed the Salem Accord...everything changed. I thought Rebecca would be proud of me. But she disagreed. After a series of events, she disappeared. I still felt the connection for decades, but she actively blocked me from being able to search her out. Even teaching it to her descendants, I would only be able to sense it if I was in close proximity. When I and a council of witches created the Codex to track the lines, I tried tracking where she could have gone, but I could never figure out which line. Rebecca was a very popular name back then.”

Alder rises and moves toward the book again. The group can see cracks in the normally strong facade the general keeps up. She moves her hand and they watch as she caresses one of the top most lines in the book.

“Scylla gave you a mark that my sisters and I created over 300 years ago, a mark that carries our families resonance, our signature...she is not just a Ramshorn...she is the last matriarcal link in the Alder line.”

The room is completely completely silent, but Raelle cannot even register that at this moment. Scylla had told her that her family history was complicated, but Raelle had never imagined something like this. There were so many questions-did Scylla know about Alder, had her family always been dodgers...but there was one question that was even more important at the moment. 

“Can this help us find Scylla? I’ve tried sending her messages, but nothing. I can’t figure out how it works. It used to feel stronger, but it’s muted somehow now.” Raelle steps forward closer to Alder, allowing her gaze to slip toward the spot Alder was caressing so reverently. There it shows Rebecca Ramshorn, connected to another Ramshorn who is clearly from the core family. It’s a different link to the normal one that depicts sisters, and the children come as a consequence are drawn from the center of the two. Raelle traces down the lineage until her eyes fall on Scylla’s name. Her’s is the only name in color and with a gold border around it, the rest are greyed out. Raelle feels a tug from her heart for her love-like herself, like Tally, like so many witches...Scylla is the last of her line.

Alder grasps Raelle’s marked hand and holds it so the palm is facing up. Using her other hand she begins to trace the beginning of the S, but instead of whispering as Scylla had, Alder begins to speak aloud.

“ _Tagaigí faoi mo chuing, agus glacaigí le mo theagasc; mar is caoin uiríseal mo chroí, agus gheobhaidh sibh suaimhneas anama agam_.” 

Raelle’s head snaps up and she stares as Alder traces the sigil, concentration focused. Outside of her family and the tribes, she had never heard another witch use words. She was mocked fairly consistently behind her back for her “Christo-Pagan Bullshit.” As Alder finished, the gentle hum from her hand she had felt before became stronger. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Scylla there next to her and holding her hand, instead of her long lost 300 year old aunt.

Alder releases her hand, “By Scylla only placing the sigil on your hand, without you reciprocating, it only allows her to send messages to you, not vice versa. But the connection is still there, it will always be there until it’s disconnected. If something is blocking her, as I suspect from your description of it feeling ‘muted,’ me repeating the words for the work will allow a Knower to see the connection.”

Alder finally begins to address the group, startling near all of them except for Bridey who is still standing stoically at the door. “Craven.” 

Tally jumps to attention.

“Concentrate on Collar’s palm, you will hopefully begin to See something and I want you to tell me what it is.” Adler continues as she steps forward toward Tally.

Tally watches as Raelle turns to face them. She focuses as much as she can on Raelle’s hand, at first not seeing anything. A pressure begins to build in her head and just before it becomes overwhelming, as if she is being pushed under water, the pressure relieves suddenly and _something_ begins to manifest. Leading from Raelle’s hand, barely visible at first, is a gentle glimmer of light. The spectrum grows until a path begins to form from Raelle to the door. The light is thin, with a red core that shimmers into a rainbow of light. 

The redhead gives a chuckle of disbelief before saying, “I see it...it’s like a string, leading right out the door.”

Alder nods, “Perfect. I would have felt her presence on base from my connection to the land, so I can at least say for certain she is not within the boundaries of Fort Salem. Everyone, go quickly and collect your battle gear.

She turns to the two older officers, “Anacostia and Bridey, arrange transportation. I’ll retrieve my own supplies and ensure the biddies are safeguarded. We leave in thirty minutes and will meet at the Transport Depot.” The general turns toward her desk to begin arranging her own things. 

Finally, unable to take what’s been going on around her Anacostia finally reminds the room of her presence, “General, how do we know this isn’t a trap? Taking three untrained soldiers, let alone _you_ ...this practically screams trap. How do we know that the second we get there, that there’s not an ambush waiting to take us out?” The sergeant tries pleading with her commanding officer, with her _role model_. To come to her senses. The chances of this working, of them even finding Ramshorn.

Alder turns toward Anacostia. She understands the point that the woman is making, but still…”I know you’re worried, Sergeant. I cannot entrust this to anyone outside of this room. I have failed...so many witches, my own family, and created enemies around the world. If word got out about this connection by reading in anyone else...it would open up the chance of my connection to Scylla getting out. All of those enemies would descend on her. When we rescue her, she would be in more danger wherever she turns. I will not allow that to happen.” The two share a meaningful look and after a few moments of searching Alder’s eyes Anacostia nods in agreement.

“Guys, are you sure we’re ready for this?” Tally asks as the three move toward the transportation depot to meet Alder and Quartermain. All three are outfitted in their combat gear, hoods lowered for now. Raelle is leading them resolutely, clearly wanting to get to Scylla as quickly as possible. Abigail and Tally trail only slightly behind, having difficulty keeping up despite their height advantages. 

“It doesn’t matter whether we’re ready or not Tally, I’m going to rescue Scylla. If it has to be just Alder, Quartermain, Bridey, and myself that’s fine, but I’m not leaving her. I told her no matter what happens, I’m with her and I’m keeping that promise.” Raelle never looks back as she speaks, but both Tally and Abigail know that there is a hard look in her eyes.

Abigail and Tally share a meaningful look before both nod. There’s no way they can just let Raelle go in half cocked. They’re a unit, and they’re going to stay that way.

The trio finally arrive at the depot. Quartermain and Alder are out front with one of the bases , hands behind their backs as they approach. When they come to a stop, Alder issues the orders.

“Craven, you’ll be upfront with Quartermain navigating. Bridey is already in the back. While we’re traveling, try and conserve as much energy as possible. We don’t know exactly what we’re getting into, but make sure you’re prepared as if we’re going into an active combat zone. Ensure you have everything with you, because we’re not turning around.” With that Alder opens the door to the second row and climbs in.

Abigail turns to her unit, “Alright. I have no clue why we’re doing this, but I want to make sure we don’t get our asses completely handed to us. I have no clue if Necro was involved in Charvel’s death-” Abigail raises her hand as Raelle tries to speak, “BUT, I’m ready to kick some Spree ass. Her and I can duke it out after we get your girl back. Now, equipment check.” 

All three girls make sure their scourges are in place, Raelle still with her two. They also double check their bags for salva, silencing gags, small med kits, water packs, MREs, a spare set of gear Raelle had swiped from Scylla’s room, torches, and their small survival kits. They also made sure their boot knives were secure and that Tally had her scry. 

Abigail nods and the three move to take their places in the transport. 

* * *

Scylla knew that she was close to the end. After suffering what feels like a thousand cuts across her body from her captor, they had finally left. She feels where some of the cuts have already crusted over, twinging uncomfortably with every breath she takes. The newer cuts still trickle blood, slowly dripping onto the hard ground beneath her bare feet. 

“ _No matter what happens...I’m with you…”_

Scylla hears the echo of Raelle’s voice in her ears so near the girl might as well have been standing beside her. She could almost feel her lover’s warm hands on her overheated cheeks. She tries to take comfort in the fleeting coziness of it all; tries to push down the disgust that rises sourly in her throat at herself for what she had almost done to Raelle. The blonde fixer deserved more than her. More than a liar. She can only hope that Raelle will never find out the truth about what she had done in pursuit of her revenge; revenge for what Alder had condemned them to.

The brunette feels a few tears make their way down her cheek as the darkness that she’s been holding at bay makes its way further in, blurring the edges of her vision.

“I am so sorry Raelle, **I love you** ,” she uses the last of her strength to wrap the last words in her song, trying to will the words to reach Raelle’s ears before the darkness takes over. 

* * *

Tally’s brow wrinkles as they make their way toward what seems to be a mining camp. They had been driving for at least four hours, moving steadily south west. It could be that the long hours driving and staring at the light is getting to her, but she thinks the light that she is following is beginning to dim. 

Anacostia cuts the lights as they come upon what seems to be an abandoned mining camp. The sergeant pulls the vehicle to a stop in front of a sign that reads: Sterling Hill Mine Ogdensburg, NY. Tally calls back after they have halted, “General, does the light dim as we get closer to her?”

“We need to hurry,” is all the General says and she opens the door and walks around to the front. 

Raelle and Abigail look to each other before bolting out behind her, Tally and Anacostia following.

With a worried look on her face as she approaches the General, Raelle asks, “Why do we suddenly need to hurry?”

The group watches as Alder’s jaw tightens, “The connection is weakening...which means Scylla’s life force is weakening. We will need to make our way through quickly. We’ll move in pentagram formation with me on point. Craven you stick to the center with your scry. You will need to look as deep as you can quickly. I would put my bets on this being a mine with a lead concentration. The deeper we go, the less we will be able to rely on Seed sounds. Keep any combat from the walls, we don’t know how stable everything is. Collar and Bellweather, protect the rear. Questions?”

The group shake their heads in the negative.

Alder nods and raises the hood of her cowl, the rest of the group following suit. They walk through what seems to be an abandoned storage building, paint peeling from age and disuse. Tally pulls out her scry as they follow the path that she confirmed the light fell on. Just before the path widens, Tally whispers out a “wait,” and everyone comes to a halt. 

Tally pans her scry from left to right, making sure to hold on some of the other out buildings. Holding up two fingers, she points first to a building far left to their path, before raising another finger and gesturing further along their path. Alder turns to Abigail and Raelle before motioning to the building. 

Raelle follows Abigail as they circle around the side of the building. They hug the walls as they turn a corner. Peaking around they see two witches watching over another road entrance. Abigail and Raelle look to each other and their eyes meet before moving forward and quickly linking with the two, knocking them out. They each zip tie their mark’s hands and wrap silencing collars around them before storing them in the building out of sight. Then they swiftly move back along the path toward where they left the other.

Moving toward where Tally had pointed originally, they come upon where the path leads up to a large metal door. Bridey and Quartermain are managing their two captives with one already in the bushes. Alder and Tally are closer to the door, panning over it with the scry.

As the four join them at the door, Tally begins to speak, “There’s no one just inside, but the path leads to one cross section with five targets. We’ll follow that path west before cutting right with another three targets. After that my sight starts dimming, but I think it’s a shaft elevator.”

“Same formation then, keep tight and stay away from the walls. Walk lightly. When we get to the cross sections, move in quickly. We don’t want to alert the next section.” With those final instructions, Alder hums a low seed and the door slowly unlocks itself and begins to open.

Raelle winces at the creaking sound it makes as the gap widens enough for them to move through in formation. The knot that she has had in her gut grows as they move forward through the dim passage. She tries to keep her senses open as they move forward, but she can’t help but begin tracing the ‘S’ on her palm. Hoping that as they move closer to her, that Scylla will be able to feel it and know that they’re coming...that she didn’t leave her. 

It’s only a few minutes before they come on the first cross section. Alder slowly sends out the vibrations for ‘1’...’2’...and then on ‘3,’ they’re off. The five guards are taken by surprise, having congregated in a circle, thinking they were completely alone. They have hoods covering their faces, unable to be distinguished from one another aside from build. 

Alder and Quartermain go for the furthest one. Quartermain distracts them while Alder sends out a low range but centralized wind-strike to the back of their head, knocking them out.

Raelle took one to the left while Abigail went center. Raelle does another quick sleep link, this time toward the front while taking a hold of their throat. Abigail takes the more physical route, delivering a sharp palm strike to her opponents nose. Raelle hears the distinct sound of cracking bone and knows without seeing that her sister’s target is out cold with blood gushing from their face. 

The fixer turns to her right and she sees Bridey with her mark already on the ground. Tally had tried linking, but her target dodges toward her low and tries to take out her legs. Tally shifts to the left before moving down and taking her target in a choke hold. The spree agent tries pulling at the taller witches arm, but Tally simply stands straighter and tightens the hold. She releases just as the target goes limp. 

“Looks like my little girl, IS all grown up,” Raelle whispers jokingly with a smirk thrown to Tally as they both secure their targets. Tally returns the smirk and they quickly finish laying their marks against the wall. 

They form back up before moving forward, west as Tally said. As they move in close Raelle can begin to feel an almost numb feeling begin to take over. As the light brightens again, instead of sending out the vibrations Alder counts them down with her hand. They take this next group out with little fanfare...six against three is probably a bit overkill.

The group heads right, and the passageway darkens again. It’s not too soon before they come upon a freight elevator. 

“General, I would like to request that you head back to the transport.” Quartermain knows that the plea will fall on deaf ears, but she has to at least attempt to make her listen to reason.

Alder shakes her head, “I’m following this through, Anacostia.” She makes sure to place emphasis on her name before continuing, “Besides, it’s been about 40 years since my last battle...I need to make sure my muscles stay loose.” The last is to try and lighten the mood before heading down.

Quartermain nods before addressing everyone else, “This shaft will likely take us down almost a hundred feet. That puts us deep in lead territory, hand to hand only.” She makes eye contact with everyone, “Let’s move.”

They all pile onto the freight elevator, and Bridey pulls the only lever available. Despite its age, it doesn’t creak or scream like the door did. As the elevator descends they can begin to see a light make its way through the shaft. The tension is thick with anticipation and fear as it finally comes to a stop. In front there are no guards, just a few meters of tunnel until a door. 

Raelle takes a deep breath before following the team off the elevator. They take flanking positions on either side of the door, three and three. The blonde takes one last moment to run her finger along the S one last time before Quartermain suddenly and quickly opens the door. All six flood in, automatically moving to their agreed formation again. The tunnel has opened up to a large cavern. All six women quickly turn in their position and try to take in as much information as possible. Raelle stops dead in her tracks, though, when she follows the only beam of light in the room and sees her.

There, hanging by shackles diagonally from her body, is Scylla. Raelle hears her breath begin to hitch as she takes in her love’s tattered clothing. There are numerous cuts, more than she can count, littering her body. Some have recent blood still falling in rivulets from her body, while other spots are a rusty red from crusting over. Dirt litters her body and her head is tilted down at an angle, only just enough that Raelle can recognize her through her matted hair. The only thing giving her any hope is the nearly indiscernible rise and fall of her chest. 

Raelle can’t handle the emotions or tears welling in her, and she releases an agonizing, “ **_SCYLLA!!!_ **” The fixer then tries to run forward, and makes it past her sisters before Quartermain is able to get a grip on her. Raelle struggles against the Sergrant’s hold. She tries to maintain eye contact on the brunette, not wanting to take her eyes off her again.

“-llar, Collar-COLLAR!!” Quartermain is finally able to get through and Raelle tries to calm down a little, but she is still shaking, “We’re not alone,” she whispers into her ear. 

Raelle finally takes in the rest of her surroundings, and it is true. As she begins to twist to see what the woman is talking about, there are dozens of Spree operatives around them holding positions, at ease, around them in a semicircle. As the six begin to move into position, there is a sudden and deep clapping from behind them. 

As the women whip around, they are taken aback at the familiar figure that makes its way out of the shadows. 

The shock is palpable...this is the most unlikely person to be here, particularly Alder.

“Ashur…” she whispers out as the burly form of the man is finally fully visible. Before her is someone that she has shared so much with over the years. **:)**

The man smirks, “Well, this is a bit of a surprise Sarah.” The voice confirms his identity for everyone else in the room. Witchfather.

“You’re Spree.” It’s not a question as Alder tries to regain her composure.

“Well, one of them. There are many legions of us. Mine was just given a specific task that she,” he gestures with his head behind him, “failed at. So...she needed to be punished. After I got rid of Charvel, it was so easy.” A smirk takes over his face.

Abigail lets out a scream of rage and Tally works hard to restrain her.

Ashur chuckles, “Yes, so much like your mother. But this is truly unexpected. I was just trying to punish a traitor. You...you’ve brought me the prize. I see you don’t have my gift Raelle. This would have been so much easier if you had.”

Raelle feels her stomach drop to the ground. They didn’t walk into a trap...they had created one.

The smirk drops from Witchfather’s face.

“Get them.”

Everything breaks into a flurry as the six women begin to take on the advancing Spree. All scourges are released, with Raelle duel wielding Byron’s and Scylla’s. In spite of the lead surrounding them, the weapons are still imbued with their power, something that no mineral can take away from them. 

Raelle dodges attacks from two Spree in front of her. Whipping one of her scourges around an opponent's neck, she pulls hard yanking them to the ground. She uses the other to trip up another opponent before running forward and landing a kick to their temple. Dust is kicking up, invading her senses as she looks for the next would be attacker. Sweat drips into her eyes as she feels foreign hands try and grab her from behind. 

As the Spree behind her tries to hold her to their chest, she slams her foot onto theirs before whipping her head backwards. Her strike lands true and she feels pain explode at the back of her head as the person behind her releases their grip. Raelle twists one scourge above her head before whipping it across her opponent’s face, knocking them out. 

There are screams and grunts around her. As Raelle turns to look around, there are several Spree down, but the team is clearly beginning to tire. While seeing her chance, Raelle tries to race toward Scylla. She passes Abigail taking out a target that had pushed Tally into a corner; Bridey and Quartermain are locked back to back as they take on their own opponents; Alder has several bodies littering around her as she and Witchfather- _Ashur_ are locked in battle. Just as she is about to reach Scylla, when the light from above is shining on her, when she can practically smell the lilac scent that seems to follow her love anywhere-both her arms are suddenly taken hold of. 

“ **NO!!** No--Scylla! Scylla, wake up!” The blonde screams as she is pulled away. She struggles as the Spree agents force her to turn and face the battle. In the time she had nearly reached Scylla, the rest of the operatives had managed to herd the group to a wall. Nearly ten agents surround her unit, Quartermain, and Bridey. Ashur has Alder on her knees, a hand to her throat. 

Seeing Scylla up close, seeing how close she is to death...being able to practically taste the copper that permeates the air behind her from her love’s wounds...and now seeing her sisters held against the wall, seeing someone as powerful as General Sarah Alder down on her knees for someone like _him_. 

It had been so long since this feeling had built in her. This feeling of utter helplessness, powerlessness...but she wasn’t, not anymore.

Closing her eyes and concentrating, Raelle begins to focus on the individual energy. This had nothing to do with being a witch, and everything with being her mother’s daughter. 

Everyone pauses as an almost ethereal voice begins to permeate the air, a light wind beginning to whip up.

“ _Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.”_

Everyone turns to look toward her, eyes wide. Heat begins to permeate her limbs, her eyes glowing. The two operatives restraining her step away in fear. 

Raelle has no clue what she’s doing, she just lets her mother’s spirit guide her. She searches out every cut, every bruise, every pain her love feels right now...and then searches out the Spree operatives. Their fear, their malice, their hate. Most importantly, she searches out Asher.

She doesn’t need touch to link with them.

“ _Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbor: for we are members one of another.”_

The fixer sees the Spree begin to flinch.

_“Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath: neither give place to the enemy.”_

They roll up their sleeves, their fear growing as they see the red blossom on their skin.

_“Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labor, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.”_

Ashur though, is screaming. Cuts have appeared along his arms and face, blood beginning to drip down. 

_“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice.”_

As Raelle feels the last of the pain leave Scylla, she collapses forward to her knees. She begins to see Tally and Abigail run toward her, sliding through the dirt as they reach her. All the Spree operatives have collapsed to the ground around them. Alder moves forward while Quartermain and Bridey begin to secure the fallen enemies.

Tally and Abigail take hold of Raelle and she allows herself to lean on them. She has no idea what she did, or how...all she knows is Scylla is still here, alive.

“Scylla…” those are her last words as she allows her exhaustion to overtake her and she collapses into her sisters’ arms.

* * *

“ _Raelle”_

She has to be imagining it.

“ _Raelle”_

There’s no way it’s her. The last time she’d seen her…

“Raelle.”

The blonde finally allows herself to wake up, jolting at the feeling of soft sheets around her. She braces her hands against the surface beneath her-a bed-and looks around. Her hair whips from right to left as her eyes land on a sight she had never expected to see. 

“Scylla,” she whispers as she takes in the brunette in front of her.

Scylla allows a smile to overtake her face. Raelle allows one of her hands to reach out and Scylla leans into her palm as it reaches her.

The brunette closes her eyes at the feeling of her fixer, the warmth from her hand. She raises her own to cover it and opens her eyes again. Raelle has inched slightly forward.

“It’s really you,” Raelle whispers as she moves closer. Scylla is sitting cross legged in front of her on the blankets, so Raelle moves until her hip is touching Scylla’s knee.

Scylla nods, “It’s really me. You saved me, Raelle.” 

Raelle raises her other hand to mirror the left, cradling Scylla’s face. The blonde darts forward and kisses every surface she can. Forehead, eyes, cheeks-anything to make sure this is real. She allows her head to rest against Scylla’s, their breath intermingling. 

“I love you. I love you so much-I couldn’t stand it if I’d lost-”

“Shhhh,” Scylla raises a finger against Raelle’s lips. They both have tears of happiness, joy, and relief beginning to run down their faces. 

“You didn’t lose me, you believed in me-you saved me. And I know I have a lot to make up for, but I promise you. My love for you has ALWAYS been real. You will never lose me.” Scylla seals the promise with a kiss, taking the blonde’s lips in her own.

As they sit there, taking comfort in each other, reassuring one another that they were real...they know that there is still so much to talk about. But all that can wait for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation from Irish-Used a bible and cross referenced...hey, if Raelle can be different why can’t a 300+ year witch?  
> Matthew 11:29  
> Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; For I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls
> 
> The last bits are from Ephesians 4. I took some bits and pieces to suit. Thank you to likethefoximalwayschanging (tumblr) for the suggestion when I was looking for the right one! Also this was my first time writing fight scenes, so thank you to numberfiveisalive and callmestephlee for their expertise!
> 
> And of course my awesome Beta OnlyNickatNight for putting up with my ramblings and inability to write for almost two weeks because I questioned every choice I made *sweatdrop*
> 
> And yes, I know I’m taking liberties...at this point the show is taking liberties with my soul, so I think I’m allowed. :) 
> 
> Now, there are liberties with the mine composition and its location. But creative licensing, right?


	5. Authors Note! A happy one, promise!

Hey guys! You all have been more than patient, and I apologize for the long wait for the final chapter. Between hiatus, starting a new job, COVID, and other factors the inspiration just wasn’t there. I was able to do a small writing exercise, you all might have seen Just A Dream, and that has put my writing muscles back in the zone. That combined with a two week winter shutdown at work means that final chapter will be here before the New Year. I appreciate everyone sticking with me, and just wanted to give a small update! Appreciate all your support ❤️❤️❤️


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